Amara rushed through the palace corridors, her heart pounding as she searched for Azer. She knew where he would be—their quiet sanctuary in the royal gardens, a secluded alcove where he often retreated when troubled.
Pushing past the archway covered in blooming wisteria, she found him standing by the fountain, his back turned to her, hands clenched at his sides.
"Azer," she called softly.
He didn't turn immediately, but she saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way his breath hitched at the sound of her voice. Gathering her courage, she approached, reaching for his hand.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have considered your feelings. I wasn't thinking about how much you've suffered… how much you've fought for me."
Azer finally turned, his grey eyes filled with turmoil. "Amara… I don't want to keep you from finding your past. I just—" He exhaled sharply. "I can't lose you. I won't survive it."
